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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019262">From the Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrielle1291/pseuds/Adrielle1291'>Adrielle1291</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural, The Crazies (2010), The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, Deputy Benny Lafitte, Falling In Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Daryl Dixon, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Police Sheriff Dean Winchester, Pre-Canon, Previous Dean/Cas (mentioned), Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentionted), Zombie Apocalypse, more tags in later chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:54:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrielle1291/pseuds/Adrielle1291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a strange encounter while out hunting, Daryl wakes bound in a hospital room surrounded by unknown bodies. As the small town of Senoia falls victim to the first wave of the virus two men struggle to make it out alive. Finding the answer is easy but being able to live with it may prove more difficult... </p><p>"You wanna give up?" He asked softly, "You want to sit here and die, just tell me...and I will sit here and die with you."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From the Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was inspired from the movie The Crazies, from which I stole the idea for the first chapter. Things will meld with the Atlanta group in the second chapter. </p><p>This story is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.<br/>Feedback is very much appreciated. This is my first time posting a story!</p><p>Characters are not mine but their actions and thoughts are hehe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <br/>
Daryl had awoken earlier that morning, gathering everything he needed into his truck and driving out into the woods. Needing to get away for a day or two. He felt better out in the forest, searching for some game, not having to deal with the real world and it's shit.</p><p>It was late into the afternoon, the little bit of game he'd found he hadn't hit his target, only darkening his mood. He was making his way back towards his truck when he heard the snapping of twigs to his left. Frowning, he halted, standing still as he just watched, his rifle firmly in his grip just in case. It sounded too light to be a bear or cougar. Bobcats weren't in this part of the country. It was too light for a deer too-his eyes carefully scanned the area, waiting and watching silently for whatever it was it make it's presence known. He caught sight of something red and blew out a breath, realizing that it was another hunter that was out for the day.</p><p> <br/>
"Hey there." He called out to get the man's attention, not wanting to startle him or have one of them accidentally shoot the other. "Kinda spooked me there, man." He said, making his way over to the other man. The man was facing away from him as Daryl approached, slightly swaying where he stood, he seemed off or something. The hair on his arms standing up on end as Daryl got goosebumps, something was off and it was creeping him out, he could feel it in the air. </p><p><br/>
"Hey man, you okay?" He asked, placing his hand on the mans shoulder and spinning him around. "What the hell?" He gaped, taking a step back. The guy had a huge bite taken out of his neck, blood darkening the front of his jacket and the shirt underneath. His eyes were glassy and he didn't appear to be in his right mind. He groaned, his hand reaching out for Daryl as he took a careful step backwards. </p><p><br/>
"What the fuck happened to ya?" Daryl asked, his frown deepening as he took a quick look around them. "Ya need ta go to the hos-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, the man before him growling as he lunged at Daryl, his hand grasping for him-his teeth clashing together as he groaned and growled. Daryl took another step backwards as the man came forward, both his hands reaching out for him now, his teeth snapping together, his eyes milky and distant. "Easy now-alright." Daryl warned, scowling at the man, unsure of what the fuck was going on.</p><p> <br/>
With a growl the man lunged at him. He was stronger then he seemed and knocked Daryl to ground with a grunt. The man was snapping and snarling, his hands clawing at him, his teeth gnawing together as he bit the air trying to get at him. Daryl grunted, trying to push and fight the man off of him, panting as they fought in a heap on the ground. He managed to kick the guy off of him an jump up to his feet, grabbing his rifle and taking aim at the man's chest.</p><p><br/>
"Easy now, ya hear." He warned, panting lightly. "Just calm the fuck down, alright. Ya need help, I can take ya ta town." He offered hotly. The guy wasn't listening, he pushed himself to his feet, still groaning and growling low, his hands coming out to seek at Daryl again. "Stand down." He warned, steadying the rifle against his shoulder. He didn't want to shoot the guy-he didn't, but they were miles from town-no one knew he was out there and it would start to get dark soon. He had no idea what was wrong with this guy, if he was off his rocker or what, but he was unresponsive and threatening. Daryl had army training, thanks to Merle passing it on, he knew what he was doing. How to defend himself and neutralize a target, but this guy was on another level. He opened his mouth to warn the man again when he snarled and lunged-Daryl reflectively firing off a shot at the man's heart-blowing him off his feet. </p><p><br/>
Daryl stood, rooted still, as the rifle shot echoed through the forest. His breathing a little raspy as he stared at the down man-panic over taking him as his mind went blank. He didn't know how long he stood there-internally freaking out that he had just killed another human being. </p><p><br/>
He jumped as he heard the man on the ground groan, the body moving, rocking side to side as he tried to stand. "What the fuck?" Daryl breathed, quickly re-cocking the gun and taking aim again. 'that's impossible-I shot him in the damn heart'. Daryl thought to himself. 'This ain't happening, this can't be for fucking real'. He watched in utter disbelief as the man slowly got to his feet, the groaning louder now as he turned back around to face Daryl again-a huge bloody hole in his chest where his heart should have been. Daryl was in shock-his eyes wide and disbelieving as the man lunged at him again. He reacted on instinct-his kicking in as he fired off another shot-this time hitting the man square between the eyes. </p><p><br/>
He blew out a shuddering breath, lowering the gun as he ever so carefully crept up to the man-mindful of his step-checking to make sure he was definitely dead this time. Daryl stood there for several minutes, making sure the man was not going to rise again before he raked a hand over his head-confusion and fear shaking him to his core. "What the fuck?" He questioned aloud.</p><p><br/>
<em>-Global Outbreak-</em><br/>
<em>Emergency Broadcast System from Washington DC is heard across all broadcasts, with the announcer repeating that the transmission is not a test. </em>
</p><p><br/>
Daryl's mind was still reeling as he had drove back into town--only to be hit by a military road block. They had forced him to pull over, removing him from his truck and shoving him through the mass of people they had herded out in front of the hospital. There were chain link fences erected in the parking lot, people being forcibly lead down the lined paths to be scanned by men in full combat gear. There were military everywhere, all in the same get up, machine gun and rifles in there hands. And they were all wearing gas masks. </p><p><br/>
Daryl's scan had beeped alarmingly and the screen flashed red. People were screaming all around him, body's thrashing together as he was being manhandled by a pair of military men. He was screaming, demanding answers, but they weren't listening. He was pulled and shoved into one of the sealed white tents, forced onto a gurney, and had a mask pressed over his face.</p><p> </p><p>He awoke slowly. His mind unfocused with a buzzing in his head. Groans slipped from his lips as he tried to move, the fog swirling as he attempted to open his eyes. He blinked them open to a darkly lit room. The buzz in his head turning into a something more...urgent. An alarm in the distance, it's continuous beep echoing throughout the building. Taking stock of his body, Daryl felt panic rise as he found himself to be securely strapped to a gurney. His arms, ankles, and chest bound by a thick strap, with little to no wiggle room. </p><p><br/>
Heavy trembling breaths slipped past his lips as his eyes frantically searched the room. There were numerous others gurneys, three rows of maybe a dozen each. On each one lay a body. Daryl could make out choked breaths, a soft hysteric laughter, and groans from within the room. He had no idea if anyone else in there was in his same situation, he was far too terrified to call out and draw attention to himself. Mind reeling, he tried to calm his breathing with deep breaths, taking stock of his body again to test out if he was injured or anything. Satisfied that he wasn't bleeding or hooked up to anything, he then tried to focus his eyes in the dim room to discern anything that may be a clue, or of use. First things first, he needed to get the fuck off this damn table. He tried to fight his wrists free as his eyes continued to scan the room. Plastic sheets surrounded the gurneys, various machines were still beeping, hooked up to a few bodies. IV drips, cables, cords, God only knew what else, were also in the room, none of which Daryl knew much about. </p><p><br/>
Straining his eyes he peered farther into the room, doing his best to make out an odd sound. He saw something move at the far end. Movements jerky and uncoordinated. Wet. Whatever it was sounded wet and it made Daryl frown in unknown disgust. A familiar stench of blood filled the air then as the wet sound continued, fear further inching it's way up Daryl's spine. The memory of the man in the words crept into his mind then and his stomach fell as that fear consumed him. Immobile, weaponless, and vulnerable Daryl felt sheer terror as the reality of the situation fell upon him. Whatever the fuck was going on was not good. And he was literally right in the middle of it. </p><p><br/>
Panicked breaths escaped his lips as his fight or flight instinct kicked in, forcibly writhing in his restraints now, willing his body to break free. Groans from across the room echoed his way as whatever was over there clearly heard him. That sickening wet sound halted as a thud and shuffling replaced it. A silhouette inching it's way closer through the darkness towards him. </p><p><br/>
Fear kept him from calling out, from yelling at the thing to stay back, to fuck right the hell off. Fear kept his voice lodged deep within his chest. Fear kept his breathing ragged and desperate as his wrists burned from the friction against the straps biding him. Fear kept his eyes locked on whatever it was slowly creeping across the room. <br/>
And fear made his body lock when he saw a mangled corpse reaching towards him. </p><p><br/>
The scream that left his lips wasn't human. His mind not even registering the sound that escaped him. Instinct was all that consumed him in that moment. He thrashed, pushed, and pulled against his bindings. Fighting and screaming at that thing to stay away, for help. He was screaming for help. That he was aware of. Help, there had to be someone. Fucking anyone who could hear him. </p><p><br/>
Cold bloody soaked hands wrapped around his ankle as the deafening sound of gunfire ripped through the air. Red splattered across Daryl's torso as he snapped his eyes shut and twisted his head away. </p><p><br/>
The room far too silent after the fact. He could heart his heart beating in his skull as he dared open his eyes. An intense green gaze bore into him from above, unease and concern in the viridescent irises. "You okay?" A gruff whisper asked. </p><p><br/>
"No." Daryl breathed. "Not really."</p><p><br/>
"You hurt?"</p><p><br/>
"No."</p><p><br/>
"Sick?"</p><p><br/>
"No." Anger rising up now, in place of fear. "You gonna get me outta this thing?" A grunt responded but he saw the glint of a blade before the straps were being cut and he was able to heave himself off the damn table, rubbing his wrists where he'd torn the skin slightly. "The hell is going on?"</p><p><br/>
"We don't know for sure." Green eyes answered. "But it's not good. We need to get to Greenfield's truck stop on thirty five. They're putting people on buses and getting them outta dodge."</p><p><br/>
"Dean, we should get going." Another man other spoke.</p><p><br/>
"Right, I'm Sheriff Dean Winchester. This here is my deputy Benny Lafitte, and that's Becca June." He introduced the blond man with him and a young woman by the door. <br/>
<br/>
"Daryl Dixon." He muttered for himself.</p><p><br/>
"You know how to use a gun, Daryl?" Dean questioned handing him a revolver. Daryl nodded, making sure the weapon was loaded and cocked. Dean gave him a hum of approval, nodding towards the door and leading the way out. </p><p><br/>
What awaited them in the halls was fresh out of a horror movie. Broken medical equipment was scattered everywhere, busted gurneys with corpses, papers, and blood. There was so much blood. It was on everything. Splattered on the walls and tiles, the doors and windows, even some of the light fixtures on the ceiling. Daryl stayed two feet behind Dean as they slowly and quietly crept through the hospital. Ominous sounds echoed through the otherwise abandoned halls. Becca was right behind him, Benny hot on their tails, they were both dressed in the same pale blue scrubs Daryl had been placed in as well, the three all barefoot. Clearly Dean had come back here looking for his partner, and ended up finding Daryl and the girl as well. </p><p><br/>
Dean held his hand up in a 'wait here' gesture once they reached the doors. The man quietly opened them, ushering them all out once he'd scanned the area. Bodies littered the lot. Many of them charred, the scent still hung heavy in the air, one of death and smoke. Becca's panicked breathing was right behind him as they carefully made their way through the carnage. There were a few small fires lighting the way, Dean navigating past the littered parking lot towards town as Daryl did his best to block out the blood and bodies they had to weave between.</p><p><br/>
The rest of town proved no better then the hospital. There were fires everywhere, buildings and vehicles torched and ablaze as the group stood staring by the train tracks. There were bodies here too, scattered among the wreckage that was once their quaint little town. </p><p><br/>
"Come on, let's keep moving." Dean quietly urged, his hand oddly comforting where it briefly rested against Daryl's shoulder.</p><p> <br/>
An alarm rang out in the distance, the steady rise and fall of it's wail bouncing off the burning vehicles as they worked their way down the middle of main street. Becca was huddled behind him, her arms wrapped around herself, swimming in the jacket Dean had given her. The girl was no older then twenty, tears brimmed in her eyes as she kept close beside Daryl and Dean. Benny had sprinted forward, a shot gun in his hand as he kept an eye on the side streets. They went to the sheriff's department first, Dean handing them more ammo for their guns, giving Becca a basic run down of how to use a pistol. Benny had changed into some of his extra work clothes, the man now clad in the same tan button up at Dean, a bullet proof vest slung over top. </p><p><br/>
Stocked up on weapons and ammo the group made their way back through the streets, Dean still leading the way. No signs of other life had Daryl both relieved and worried. Benny was inspecting each vehicle they passed that wasn't encased in flames, trying to find the wheels out of there. </p><p><br/>
"It's booted." Benny called out, jogging back to them from a white car on the side of the street.  Daryl's gaze followed Deans as they surveyed the few vehicles in town not over turned or burning. </p><p><br/>
"They all are." Dean voiced, dread thick on his tongue. </p><p><br/>
Benny took off down the street again towards a red half ton, circling the truck as the other three approached more slowly. "It's not booted." He informed back to them. </p><p><br/>
Dean picked up their pace, jogging towards Benny and the truck only to raise his hand to Daryl's stomach to slow him up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." Was his soft instruction to halt, Daryl's eye catching what had alarmed Dean. There was fresh blood seeping out of the bottom of the tail gate, the deputy having clearly not seen it. "Benny." Dean called carefully. "Get outta the truck."</p><p><br/>
"Gimme a second." Benny said over his shoulder from the passenger seat. </p><p><br/>
A gun shot had them all rooted to the spot, their bodies freezing as they searched for the source. Becca screamed from behind them and Dean instantly had his hand on Daryl again, urging him to run and take cover behind a car on the other side of the street. He crouched low behind the tire as Becca and Dean did the same right beside him, Dean rubbing his hand across the girl's shoulders hushing her softly. Benny was right there then, sliding onto his stomach beside Daryl, peering under the belly of the car with his shotgun. </p><p><br/>
They watched from their hiding spot as voices rang out from the alley ahead of them, over by the truck full of blood. A young man sprinted from the alcove a second later, his heavy breaths heard from their crouched hideaway as the man raced away from his assailants. </p><p><br/>
"Whoo! Run little man, run!" A man bellowed cheerfully from the alley, his shadow bouncing along the wall as he stepped into view. Daryl could only stare in shock as the man raised his rifle and shot down the kid in the street, his blood raining across the pavement and pelting against the truck they hid behind. </p><p><br/>
"Aww yeah!-Nice shot-Whoo!-Come on get'im-Right through the heart." The men where all cheering, heavy boot falls clomping over as the body was lifted and carried over to the truck. The kid was tossed in the box as two men lept in after it to sit along the hub, three more men sliding in the front before the truck backed up and violently tore off down the road, the men's heavy cheers still ringing in Daryl's ears. </p><p><br/>
"It's a hell of a walk to Getty's creek." Benny stated, standing to go lean against the vehicle beside Dean. </p><p><br/>
"I got the old cruiser on blocks."</p><p><br/>
"That thing still runs?" </p><p><br/>
"You bet she does." Dean nodded, the two men sharing a look.</p><p><br/>
"Guess you can't boot a car with no wheels." Benny smirked at his friend.</p><p><br/>
"It's seven miles to my place-"</p><p><br/>
"Five if we cut through the McGregor farm." Benny cut in, tilting his head to the man. "Another twenty to the truck stop from there." </p><p><br/>
Dean nodded, looking back at Daryl and Becca in question. "You two okay to walk that far?"</p><p><br/>
"I'll be fine." Becca stated, Daryl humming with a nod.</p><p><br/>
"Okay," Benny confirmed, "Let's go." </p><p> </p><p>Becca stayed close to Benny as the man lead the way through the fields towards the McGregor farm, Daryl and Dean shoulder to shoulder as they walked a few paces behind. He was freezing, night had fallen before they'd left the hospital. The thin scrubs he wore along with his bare feet in the damp grass had him shivering, his cold hands wrapped around his arms, his chattering teeth making his jaw ache. </p><p><br/>
"We'll get you some proper clothes at my place." Dean's deep voice hummed beside him. "And some shoes."</p><p><br/>
"That'd be fucking nice." Daryl huffed, hunching his shoulders to try and conserve his body heat. </p><p><br/>
"Don't recognize you, or your name, you from around here?"</p><p><br/>
"You know everyone in Senoia?"</p><p><br/>
"It's a small town." </p><p><br/>
"Grew up in the mountains of northern Georgia." He shared, keeping his eyes ahead of him. "Drifted around with my older brother Merle fer a few years...ended up here for a bit. Was out huntin' when shit hit the fan. You?"</p><p><br/>
"I'm from Kansas originally, bounced around with my dad and younger brother, Sam growing up until he dumped us at our uncle's when I was around twelve...I moved here after the academy. Been here for roughly nine years now." He shared, his voice having gotten rougher at the mention of his brother. "God I hope that kid is alright." Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as they came to a stop for a moment. </p><p><br/>
"Where was he?"</p><p><br/>
"He was living in Cali, had been going to Stanford to be a hot shot lawyer." Dean said with fond pride, a slight smile on his lips. "Kid knows how to look after himself...I still worry though. What about your brother?"</p><p><br/>
"He OD'd a few years back."</p><p><br/>
"Oh shit, man. I'm sorry." </p><p><br/>
They shared a solemn moment, Benny and Becca a short ways ahead of them. "Ya think-..." Daryl started, unsure if he even wanted an answer to his question. "Think I was in hospital cause m'sick?"</p><p><br/>
"You're not." Dean stated evenly.</p><p><br/>
"Don't know that f'sure."</p><p><br/>
"I do. You aren't sick." Dean said, his tone leaving no room for argument.</p><p><br/>
Daryl nodded slowly as he met Dean's gaze, his eyes still just as green as they were when he'd first saw them, still as intense. He took a moment to really look at the man. Short brown hair stood messily atop his head, a matching groomed beard lined a strong defined jaw, his full lips wore a slight frown at the moment. A straight nose was adorned with a smattering of light freckles. Dean had a good couple of inches on him, overall slightly larger, except maybe in the shoulder and arm department. He was definitely fit under that uniform though, his muscles hard to miss. He was downright handsome, and, a little intimidating. </p><p><br/>
He felt the warmth of Dean's hands as he gave Daryl's upper arms a light squeeze in something akin to comfort, Daryl having to look away then from the intensity of the man's eyes. "We're gonna get through this." Dean assured him. Daryl mutely nodded, the man's soft words warming him further.</p><p><br/>
"What the fuck?" Benny's voice rang out to them, both men turned to see Becca racing towards the farm in the near distance.</p><p> <br/>
"Scotty." Dean said back to him like the name had meaning. </p><p><br/>
"Her boyfriend? Shit." Benny cursed, taking off after the girl as Dean sighed heavily. </p><p><br/>
The sheriff ran a hand through his hair pacing a little, "We don't have time for this." </p><p><br/>
Daryl's gaze landed on the girl racing to where her boyfriend was, the words slipping from his mouth before he even realized what he was saying, "Ya had time fer me." Dean paused in his motions at that, turning his gaze back to Daryl, the two sharing a brief moment of eye contact before Daryl had to look away again, shivering for a different reason now. Dean hummed, nodding as he gave his shoulder a light pat. </p><p><br/>
"Let's go catch up to them." </p><p><br/>
Benny and Becca were beside the barn as they regrouped. The deputy had his shotgun raised and ready, "Looks deserted."</p><p><br/>
"Scotty?" Becca called out, the yard light illuminating the way for them. "Scotty!?"</p><p><br/>
"Get back." The sound of a gun cocking had them all freezing.</p><p> <br/>
Benny pushed Becca behind him as he pointed his gun at the door. </p><p><br/>
"I said get back!" That same voice ordered from within.</p><p> <br/>
"Jesus, Scotty it's me." Becca exclaimed. "We're fine. None of us are sick."</p><p><br/>
A tense moment washed over them, Dean grabbing Daryl's wrist leading him over beside the opened door. He let go of him in favour of unholstering his pistol, keeping it aimed in front of the opening. The two cops shared a brief look of understanding, their guns at the ready. </p><p><br/>
"Scotty, put the gun down." Benny instructed, his voice one of kind authority. </p><p><br/>
Daryl watched from behind Dean as the nose of a rifle poked out before him, the muzzle slowly inching out, when a young man stepped out Dean stepped forward -- his gun aimed at the side of the kid's head. The young man blew out a breath, meeting Dean's eye and muttering, "Sorry, had to be sure."</p><p><br/>
"Yeah, well, that's a two way street there Scotty." Dean replied, holstering his gun before he grabbed the rifle from his hands. The two kids ran forward to embrace each other, Scotty apologizing to the girl as he cupped her face and gave her forehead a fond kiss. "Scotty, where's your mom?" Dean questioned, his eyes on the house. </p><p><br/>
"In the house. We were just getting some supplies before we was gonna start walking."</p><p><br/>
"Dean's got a car." Becca shared. "Y'all can come with us." The two kids started to softly speak as Daryl's eyes scouted the area, something didn't feel right, the air was too heavy, the night too silent. Benny had his eyes on the house, Dean looking out across the field by the vehicles. He seemed to see it at the same time as Daryl, both telling the others to be quiet. The kids froze at their order, Dean ushering them towards the barn. </p><p><br/>
"Get inside, everyone." Dean quietly urged. They all raced in, Dean carefully shutting the door as they all peered through the cracks it the wood slabs. The same military men from the hospital came into view, flashlight beams on the end of the their rifles, each wearing those same gas masks. Daryl watched as a handful of men went up to surround and secure the house, the sound of engines reaching his ears from their left. </p><p><br/>
"Dean." He whispered, getting the man's attention from behind him to point a what he saw. A second later three white hummers drove onto the property, more men piling out, all armed. His eyes were drawn back to the house as men dragged out a woman, she was begging them to stop as they pulled her from her home, the men's words lost to Daryl as Scotty made to move from beside them. Benny caught the back of the boys shirt, quietly ordering him to stop a moment. The woman was crying and begging at the top of her lungs as one of the men scanned her, that little machine beeping that harsh wail when Scotty ripped himself from Benny's grasp and raced out the door. Dean had grabbed Daryl then, pulling him further away from the opening, his arm still around his waist as the two men watched from a slit in the wood. Scotty had barely made it fifty feet before he was gunned down, his mother ripping herself free to run to her son, crying out his name. She was nearly to him when the men shot her down too. Flamethrowers burning the bodies as a man's orders rang out over the yard. </p><p><br/>
"Okay, spread out. I want a clean sweep of the area."</p><p> <br/>
Dean was still right behind him, the hand on his hip tightening a moment before he spoke against his ear. "Take Becca, go to the back of the barn." </p><p><br/>
Daryl did just that, wrapping his arm around the weeping girls shoulders to steer her, her hands clasped over her mouth to stifle her sobs. They headed to the back of the barn, both crouching low behind a couple of straw bales, Daryl keeping a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He couldn't see Dean from where they were, the other two men having stayed to guard the door. </p><p><br/>
"Daryl." Becca's pained voice said beside him, her arms wrapping around his middle. "I'm fucking scared." </p><p><br/>
He hugged her back slowly, unsure of what the hell to say. "Yeah, me too." He went for honesty. "But Dean knows what he's doin'." </p><p><br/>
She nodded, not letting him go. Daryl kept his gaze ahead of them, over their cover to where the other two men were still out of view. Cows softly moo'd from the pens beside them. The two jumped when Dean and Benny sped their way, Dean half dragging a man with am arm around his neck. He threw the man against the nearby tractor tires. Benny took a knee before them, the man's stolen gun raised at him as Dean ripped the man's mask off.</p><p><br/>
"D-don't kill me." The man begged. Well, kid would be more accurate, he looked barely the same age as Becca. "Please, don't kill me."</p><p><br/>
"Ah fuck." Dean cursed seeing how young the guy was too. Becca lunged towards him, but Daryl caught her as she spewed and cursed at the man. Anger and hurt in her every word. "You make a sound to get us noticed, and I will kill you, you understand? Now, what the hell was that?" Dean spat quietly.</p><p> <br/>
"Orders, sir." </p><p><br/>
"Who? Asshole." Benny questioned.</p><p><br/>
"Whoever give's em, I dunno-"</p><p><br/>
"Bullshit," Dean spat, grabbing a handful of the kids front. "What the fuck is going on out there?"</p><p><br/>
"All's they said was that there'd been some sort of accident. Our whole unit got flown in, we didn't even know what state we were in until we seen the license plates." The kid rambled off, voices from his radio had Dean shushing him, he and Benny raising their guns towards the front of the barn. "Am  I gonna die without my mask on?" The guy breathed.</p><p> <br/>
"That what they told ya?" Daryl questioned then. "If you took yer mask off you were gonna die?"</p><p><br/>
"They just said to keep it on. Look," He started when Dean looked back at him, his voice a little breathless and urgent. "I know I don't deserve no favors from you people, but if ya let me go, I swear to God I won't say nothing. I didn't sign up to shoot unarmed civilians." </p><p><br/>
Flashlight beams were shining at the front of the barn now, more people having entered, they were running out of time. "I'll just leave, okay?" He made to move, Benny shoving him right back down with the order to not move.</p><p><br/>
"Give him the gun, Benny." Dean instructed. </p><p><br/>
"Chief?" Benny questioned.</p><p><br/>
Dean got back in the boys face then, grabbing the front of his uniform again. "I'm a sheriff, he's my deputy. Daryl there is just a civilian, and Becca here is not even eighteen."<br/>
"If he blabs they'll find us." Benny stated.</p><p><br/>
"If we don't they'll find us for sure." Dean countered, a hard look aimed at the boy. "Besides, he's not gonna blab." He added in a steely voice.</p><p><br/>
"No sir," the kid breathed. </p><p><br/>
Dean handed him back the gas mask, which the kid instantly shoved back on, his helmet soon following as the flashlights and voices drew nearer. "You gotta give it to him, Benny." Dean urged quietly. The man cursing before the handed back the auto rifle to the kid who quickly got to his feet and raced over to where his comrades were.</p><p><br/>
"Hey, whoa-"</p><p><br/>
"It's me, don't shoot."</p><p><br/>
"Any walkers back there, Babcock?"</p><p><br/>
There was a moment of uneasy silence as the four of them held their breaths.</p><p><br/>
"Babcock?"</p><p><br/>
"No. All clear." "Good, military's pulling back to the perimeter. Come on, let's go."</p><p> </p><p>“If what  that solider said is true. This disease has gone airborne. We could all already be infected..." </p><p>The sun had rose maybe an hour ago, the light wind ruffling Daryl's hair as he walked alongside the Sheriff. Dean words had played over and over in his head the rest of the night. If the disease was airborne, then it was just a matter of time before they all got sick. </p><p><br/>
The man's house came into view not long later, towels out on the line in front of a small two story house, a small deck lined the front, a garden off to the one side. It was quaint but homey. Even from where he stood the placed looked loved, lived in. As they neared, Benny wrapped an arm around Becca and stated that they'd go get the car running. Dean nodded back, sharing with Becca to check inside the cabinet for some old clothes that might fit her, along with some shoes. </p><p><br/>
Daryl went along with Dean towards the house and the other two went around back to the garage. The inside of the house was immaculate. The old wooden floors shone in the morning sun, black and white pictures lined the front hall and landing as the two men headed upstairs. Daryl couldn't help but feel awkward as he followed Dean into his bedroom, the man grabbing a duffel bag from under his bed as he started rifling through his dresser, Daryl standing awkwardly just inside the door. </p><p><br/>
"Shirt might be a little tight on you, but I think my jeans will fit." Dean stated, handing Daryl a couple items of clothing before nodding to a door beside him. "The bathroom's through there."</p><p><br/>
Daryl nodded mutely, stepping into the roomy bathroom and sealing the door behind him. A claw foot tub took up most of the space, a corner shower, toilet and sink occupying the other side. It was as clean as the rest of what Daryl had seen, only a toothbrush and paste in a glass were sat beside the sink. He quickly removed the bloody and damp hospital clothes for the ones Dean had given him. The soft band t shirt fit him a little snug across the shoulders, but the man was right about the jeans, he pulled on the socks too before he tossed the old clothes in the tub and went back to the other room. Dean was shoving some socks and underwear into the bag, no longer in his uniform but street clothes, he gave Daryl an approving nod at his new outfit. "There's jackets and shoes in the closet in the next room. I'm going to grab what I can for medical supplies. Anything else you think we might need, grab it if you see it." </p><p><br/>
"Sure." He nodded, making his way to the room a little farther down the hall. The opened the door to reveal a simple guest room, double bed was along the far wall, a end table under the window and a rocking chair in other corner. He went to his right instead, sliding open the double doors to the closet in search of the rest of what he needed. He dug through the old clothes until he found a navy flannel, pulling it on over the t shirt he kept digging until something caught his eye. Pulling out the item, he found it to be a worn leather vest, a pair of faded white wings sewn onto the back. It had been shoved at the very back of the closet, Daryl was sure for a reason, but something about it had him hesitating to put it back. Before his mind could overthink Daryl slipped it on too then knelt down to grab some work boots that looked his size.</p><p><br/>
"Dar-" Dean voice cut off behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Dean giving him an almost pained look, his eyes going glassy as he stared at Daryl's back. "You uh-" clearing his suddenly scratchy voice, "That looks good on you." He said, sounding sincere as he eyes sought out Daryl's.</p><p><br/>
"I can take it off-" He started, already making to remove the item. </p><p><br/>
Dean's outstretched hand stopped him though. "No...No, it's fine. I just, I haven't seen it in a while is all..." He stated, his sentence fading off before he shook his head and cleared his throat again. "It was my husband's. His name was Castiel. Like the archangel." He chuckled softly shaking his head again. "I got it as a joke, but he loved it, said it made him feel like a bad ass."</p><p><br/>
"What happened to'm?" Daryl asked in a soft voice, still kneeling by the closet.</p><p><br/>
"He had Leukemia. Lived longer then the doctors told him he would but..." Dean shrugged a shoulder, looking away as he continued, "but then he got real sick." He rasped as he cleared his throat yet again. "Sorry."</p><p><br/>
"Ain't gotta apologize."</p><p><br/>
Dean nodded, regaining his composure as he met Daryl's eye again, "Keep it." He smiled then, a soft fond one that Daryl felt himself returning, even as he turned back to finish lacing up the boots. "Got everything?"</p><p><br/>
"Think so. You?" He asked as they both headed back downstairs. </p><p><br/>
"Grabbed a few essentials, medicine and bandages, a couple water bottles and protein bars. It'll keep us going until we reach the truck stop at least. Here." Dean handed him said water bottle and a bar. "Probably awhile before any of us get some sleep, better keep hydrated."</p><p>He muttered a thanks as he chugged half the bottle, the rest of it gone by the time they made it out to the garage where the other two were, Benny was tightening one of the tires, Becca dressed in new clothes as she sat perched on a work bench. </p><p><br/>
"Found some clothes?" Dean asked her, handing the girl a water bottle and bar as well.</p><p> <br/>
"Mhm, who's are they?" She asked, ripping open the protein bar.</p><p><br/>
"A friends, she always left something behind when she'd come visit." He shrugged, grinning." Becca chuckled softly at his story, her smile bright.<br/>
"Alright, car's good to go." Benny called, tossing a wrench atop a tool box. "You get the good stuff?"</p><p><br/>
"You mean water and energy bars? Duh." Dean smirked, tossing one each to the blond. "Let's pile in and hit the road."</p><p><br/>
Benny nodded to Daryl to take shotgun, him and Becca sliding in the back, both still munching away on their snacks. Daryl shoved the backpack Dean handed him by his feet, getting comfortable as the man pulled out of the garage and headed down the way. </p><p><br/>
The first stretch of their drive was quiet, everyone exhausted and worn out from the events of last night. Daryl had a lot on his mind. Too much to even think about trying to nod off for a bit. The past twenty-four hours had been the most fucked up ordeal he'd ever lived through, and he'd lived through some fucked up ordeals. The most troubling thing on his mind right now was what if he was sick. What then? How long did he have? Was he contagious? Had he already gotten the rest of them sick? His stomach was churning with the unknown. Gnawing at the permanent callous on his thumb he stared out the window as he lost himself in his head. </p><p><br/>
His life had always been shit, this mess they were in right now didn't change that, hell-he was used to chaos. His whole fucking life had been chaos. His angry drunk of a father had managed to teach him that. The world was chaos, it didn't give a shit about you, and you had to fight to survive. Only damn thing the old man had taught him. Was how to survive by himself. Merle had done his best, taught Daryl how to hunt and track, how to shoot a gun and all that. But his big brother wasn't always around, in and out of juvie, in the army for a handful of years, then in and out of prison. It had always been pretty much Daryl. Just him, fending for himself, doing what he had to to get by. </p><p><br/>
Sure the mess they were in was scary as fuck. They still didn't exactly know what the hell was going on. Two fucked encounters with what could only be described as corpses didn't give them a lot of answers. Daryl knew if Merle was still there he'd be spewing about the end, about heaven and hell and God abandoning them. His brother was a lot more religious then he'd let on. But Daryl didn't share his views, he didn't know what it was, the will of God or just some fucked up failed science experiment. Maybe someone ate the wrong convenient store sushi. All he knew was it sure as shit wasn't fucking good. </p><p><br/>
His gaze wandered to the man beside him. Sheriff Dean Winchester. He scoffed internally then. Only when shit truly hit the fan did a cop finally stop to help a Dixon. Typical. Daryl couldn't find it in himself to be pissed about that though. Dean actually seemed like good a cop and a decent person too. That was rare in Daryl's books. No one was nice out of the kindness of their hearts. People always wanted something in return, everyone always had some sort of ulterior motive, a way to reel you in. Glancing over at Dean though, Daryl didn't get that feeling from the man. He seemed genuine. He seemed actually honest. He seemed...good. It was foreign to Daryl, the kindness the man had shown to him so far, the gentle touches and protection. And he'd liked it. He liked that someone was showing that they wanted to protect him. To make sure he was okay. Didn't hurt either that the sheriff was fucking sex on legs. That stern glare when he was pissed was downright sexy. the slight bowlegged walk he had, like a damn cowboy, or his deep rumble of a voice that was still just this side of smooth, like an aged whisky. And when he'd lay a gentle hand on Daryl, he didn't tense up or flinch away like usual, Dean's presence felt comfortable, comforting. There was no threat to the man's person when it came to him touching Daryl...it felt weird, but, in a damn good way.</p><p><br/>
Of course, Dean was a damn sheriff, he was only doing his job, only protecting because it was how he was hardwired, Daryl's mind helpfully supplied. But part of him wanted to think it was more then that, maybe Dean kinda liked him. Daryl kinda liked Dean. Foolish hope. No fucking doubt about that though, but still, it felt rather nice to think that someone like Dean might actually care for someone like Daryl. No one had ever given him the time of day before. No offer of help, no kind words or friendly smiles. Dean had done all of those things and they'd barely known each other for a full day. He'd saved his damn life. Daryl would've been mauled by that corpse back at the hospital if Dean hadn't shown up when he did. Even if he was just doing his job, he didn't have to let Daryl tag along. He didn't know him from fucking Adam.</p><p> <br/>
He breathed out heavily through his nose as he sunk farther in his seat, temple pressed against the window and he tried to still his mind. He'd barely shut his eyes when Becca started coughing in the back seat. She tried to stifle it in her jacket at first, but it kept getting worse. </p><p><br/>
"Hey, you feelin' okay?" Benny asked, sounding more suspicious then concerned.</p><p><br/>
"She's fine." Daryl stood up for the girl.</p><p><br/>
"Well, I'm just saying. If she's getting sick we-"</p><p><br/>
"Benny." Dean cut in then, a warning in his tone.</p><p> <br/>
"I'm not sick." Becca assured them, her coughing having subsided a moment.</p><p><br/>
"You wouldn't know," Benny drawled. "Cuz that'd be the sickness messing with yer mind-"</p><p><br/>
"Okay, Benny, that's enough." Dean stated firmly, giving the man a stern look from over his shoulder. "Don't lose your head."</p><p><br/>
"What do you mean by that?"</p><p><br/>
"I mean, don't lose your head."</p><p><br/>
"What do you mean by that, Chief?" Benny repeated haughtily.</p><p><br/>
"I mean...Jesus Christ. She's fine." He argued, glaring at the man in the rear view mirror now. "Jus-"</p><p><br/>
A helicopter whirring overhead cut Dean mid word, the bodies in the car all cursing as they watched the machine twist in the sky around a nearby gas stop slash car wash.</p><p> <br/>
"Ah fuck." Dean cursed.</p><p><br/>
"Do you think it saw us?" Becca's scared voice asked. </p><p><br/>
"I don't know." Dean answered, ducking to better see above the vehicle from the front window.</p><p><br/>
"It's turning around. Guys. Guys! It's turning around! It's coming back towards us!" Becca panicked from the back. Benny and Becca were shouting and yelling, the deputy urging Dean to get them the fuck outta there, Becca screaming that the chopper saw them and was coming right for them.</p><p> <br/>
Daryl grabbed the man's arm and pointed towards the drive through car wash on the other side of the gas pumps. "Dean, there."</p><p><br/>
"Got it." The man nodded, gunning it. He tore across the ditch, swerving the car around the pumps as the back tires slid out from behind them. They fish tailed it around the corner of the concrete, gravel kicking up behind them as Dean tore through the plastic curtain, slamming the car in park and killing the engine once inside. They were all breathing heavily from adrenaline and panic as they searched out the back window for signs of the helicopter. They could hear it over head, the loud buzz of the blades passing over them again. </p><p><br/>
"We can't stay on the highway." Daryl stated. "There's gotta be a back road to that truck stop."</p><p><br/>
"Where Daryl? It's all fucking fields around here." Dean huffed, his gaze still out the back window.</p><p><br/>
"I don't know, there's gotta be something." He pressed, just as annoyed by their situation as everyone else.</p><p> <br/>
"What road can they not see? What magic road can they not see? Tell me?" The man asked heatedly, turning that intense gaze back at Daryl. He met Dean's eye head on for a moment, scowling at him before he scoffed and looked away. </p><p><br/>
"Just trying t'fucking help."</p><p><br/>
They all sat there stewing for a moment until Daryl felt a hand slid onto his knee. "I'm sorry." Dean apologized softly, giving his leg a light squeeze before he removed his hand just as quickly. He looked like he meant it too, guilt heavy in his eyes as he offered Daryl a soft look. </p><p><br/>
"Ahh!" Becca's scream resonated from the back seat, the girl jumping back to bump into Benny. "I saw someone!"</p><p><br/>
"Where?" The man asked, already aiming his shot gun at her window.</p><p><br/>
"He was back there." She pointed out that same window, the three men turning their gaze to where she was aiming. "He was back there, I know I saw him." The lights flicked on before she finished her sentence, the building whirring to life as the conveyor belt clicked the car's tire into place and started pulling them along. </p><p><br/>
"Ah, oh fuck." Benny was cursing from the back. "Chief, get us the fuck outta here."</p><p><br/>
Becca was crying as panic overtook her. Benny still urging Dean to fucking go. But the damn car wouldn't move. The thing kept stalling. One, two, three times before-finally. The car roared to life, Benny still cussing to get them the fucking hell gone. Dean threw the car into drive, flooring the gas as the car struggled to get any friction, the one tire locked in place by the damn belt. Dean cursed under his breath as he tried to turn the wheels, fumes spewing out the back as he lay into the gas even more.</p><p><br/>
"Why the fuck aren't we moving, man?" Benny pressed.</p><p><br/>
"Because I can't get any fucking traction." Dean threw back.</p><p><br/>
"Fuck, fuck. Come on, man. Get us the fuck outta here."</p><p><br/>
The soap had started now, wet rags wiping over the car, suds blocking their view. All Daryl could see was a rainbow of bubbles across the windows and the shapes of the mats and heavy brushes outside. Everything around them was moving, adding to the chaos as Becca screamed again, Benny rolling down his window. Daryl shouted the man to roll it the hell up, that he wouldn't get a good shot off in all the mayhem. The idiot wasn't listening though, the fear and adrenaline too high. </p><p><br/>
"What was that?" Benny asked, looking over his shoulder at the back window, the corner suds having clearly been wiped away by a human hand.</p><p> <br/>
"There, there, right there!" Becca screamed.</p><p><br/>
Benny aimed his gun out his downed window, firing off three deafening shots that reverberated throughout the small car. "Benny!" Dean cussed, spinning to pull Benny back in just as one of the moving bits outside forced the gun from the man's hands.</p><p><br/>
"I saw movement!" Benny stated, his voice high and on edge.</p><p><br/>
"Everything is fucking moving." Dean deadpanned, his scowl deep.</p><p><br/>
Growls and groans grew outside, Becca screaming as they saw the silhouette's of four people surrounding the car. Benny was grabbed, the man shouting and fighting off his assailant as Becca's window burst open, the girl shrieking as she was being attacked. Daryl turned to help her when something fell atop the windshield. Glass shattered from his side, raining down on him as growls sounded in his ear, hands grasping at his arm. He fought them off, hitting wet flesh with his fists. </p><p><br/>
"Daryl!" Dean shouted, a hand pushing his head down as a shot rang out over him. The hands on him fell away as he looked up to see Dean twisting and firing off a shot back by Benny, another body thudding outside the car. He floored it again, this time the car getting grip and peeling out from the confines of the wash, they were barely out of the bay when Becca screamed again, her body being pulled from her window. Dean was out his door in an instant, the car barely being put in park, shouting her name as three more shots rang out, one after an other. </p><p><br/>
Daryl and Benny scrambled out to see Dean with his head in his hands, falling to his knees by Becca's body. The girl had a large bite taken out of her neck and she lay completely motionless in a pool of her own blood, three corpses laying not far away. </p><p><br/>
"Fuck. No, no, no...FUCK!" Dean shouted.</p><p><br/>
The three men jumped as a bomb went off outside, their car exploding into a fiery blaze as the helicopter flew past over head. He heard Benny breath out a dry laugh, the man looking damn near hysteric as he shook his head. "Heh, ha fuck." He muttered, still with that soft dry laugh as he gestured to the burning car. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They had to leave Becca behind. They couldn't do anything for her and a burial was out of the question with the military still bombing everything. The sun had started beating down as they walked the highway towards the truck stop and they still a good ten miles to go. Daryl could feel the tension rolling off Dean in waves, the death of the girl clearly hanging on him. He felt horrible for her death too, poor young girl like her didn't deserve to go out like that.</p><p>He gave the taller man a light elbow, gaining his attention as he uttered softly, "Weren't yer fault." </p><p><br/>
Dean shook his head, "Yes it was. If I-"</p><p><br/>
"Dean, it ain't on you." He said a little more firmly. </p><p><br/>
He sighed, nodding even though he looked like he didn't agree. "I used to babysit her. When I first moved here she was only nine, her mom was our receptionist and Becca would come hang out there after school some days. Drawing pictures for us to hang up, picking flowers to put out front by the window." Dean shared, huffing out a soft laugh. "She was always smiling, always so upbeat and just so unbelievably kindhearted. She shouldn't of died like that..." </p><p><br/>
"No." He agreed quietly. "The good ones always go too early."</p><p><br/>
"You don't know how fucking right you are, man." Dean breathed, exhaling a breath through his nose. "Becca would've been eighteen at the end of the month...Cas was only twenty..."</p><p><br/>
"Castiel?"</p><p><br/>
"Mm. When dad dumped Sammy and I off at uncle Bobby's, Cas's family lived just down the street." He shared, his voice taking on a tone of fondness. "Cas was my better half, no doubt about it. Even through all the medical hell, being in and out with transfusions and appointments, he never once complained. He helped me with our homework every night. Read bedtime stories to Sammy. He even fucking hummed songs to the bees." Dean laughed then, warm but sad sounding. "I asked him to marry me when we were sixteen. His dad was our priest, got married in their backyard on a sunny afternoon...Cas refused to be in the hospital after that. Said he wanted to live the remainder of his life we me at home...we had four more years together before he passed." Silent tears were rolling down Dean's face now, as he spoke of his lost love. Daryl could feel the pain in the man's voice, see it in the hunch of his shoulders and the fond way he spoke of the memories. "He was too good for this world."</p><p><br/>
"Least he didn't have to go through all that alone." Daryl offered, not really sure what to say in that moment. </p><p><br/>
"Yeah...yeah." Dean nodded, sighing again, this time sounding a little relieved.</p><p> <br/>
The three men continued about another mile before they crested a hill, a Volkswagen sedan a few yards off on the left side of the road, and a familiar beat to shit truck on the other. Daryl snorted at the sight of Merle's old faded yellow Chevy. </p><p><br/>
"That's my truck." He stated, the three jogging towards the vehicle. </p><p><br/>
"They spiked the tires on both." Benny said from a few feet ahead of them. He ran off to check the car while Dean followed Daryl over to his truck. He hastily yanked open the door, searching instead for his stuff. There was blood splatter throughout the cabin, on the dash and windshield. It reeked inside, Daryl wrinkling his nose in disgust as he yanked free his crossbow from the passenger side floor. He dug through the glove box and found his brother's pocket knife, and rifling under the seat was able to also rescue the buck knife Merle had gifted him. The sight of all three seriously lifting his spirits, even though his rifle was missing.</p><p> <br/>
Dean had checked under the hood while he retrieved his stuff, the man slamming it shut with a curse as Daryl joined him up front. "This isn't running again." </p><p><br/>
"We'll make it on foot."</p><p><br/>
"Yeah...we need more water though."</p><p><br/>
"Guys! Car coming!" Benny shouted from across the road. Dean came around him, his eyes watching the horizon where a black SUV was racing towards them.</p><p> <br/>
"Stay here." </p><p><br/>
"What're ya doing?" He questioned, even as he stayed exactly where Dean told him to. He watched as the sheriff unholstered his pistol, checking it was loaded and the safety off before he carefully took aim at the fast approaching vehicle. </p><p><br/>
"We're taking this vehicle." Dean cocked the gun, aiming down the sights as the SUV came into range. His shot was all ready when Benny came sprinting from behind the sedan. "Benny, what're-NO!" Dean shouted too late, the deputy throwing out a strip of tire spikes across the way. </p><p><br/>
Dean jumped out of the way at the last minute, all four tires popping loudly as Benny whooped from the other side. The SUV swerved sharply, careening onto it's side and it continued to roll across the asphalt, down into the ditch and a few more rolls into the field before it came to a stop. Debris littered the highway, pieces of ripped rubber and shredded metal lay scattered, glass crunched under their heels as all three raced towards the downed ride.</p><p>Benny got there first, his rifle aimed as he spewed off, "Welcome to Pierce County, friendliest place on Earth, asshole."</p><p><br/>
Dean cut him off though, grabbing the end of the rifle and pushing it down. "Benny, I want to talk to him."</p><p><br/>
The blond man shrugged, stepping back as he nodded towards the man with an "Okay." </p><p><br/>
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" The bloodied man from the SUV groaned as Dean strode over and grabbed him by his bullet vest, throwing him back against the wreckage.</p><p><br/>
"I'm the guy standing between you, and a bullet. Now, what was on that plane?" He demanded, the man spitting out a mouthful of blood at Dean's feet. He slammed the man back against the car again, his voice steel. "What was on that goddamned plane."</p><p><br/>
"Trixie. A rhabdovirdae prototype."</p><p><br/>
"God fucking-" Dean cursed. "You're telling me, you guys engineered this crap?"</p><p><br/>
"It was designed to destabilize a population, in this case it got away from us, contamination got out of hand-"</p><p><br/>
"How out of hand?" Dean growled. </p><p><br/>
"Globally. There are reports of the T virus everywhere, all major cities are set to be bombed by what military is left at O hundred hours." Turning away from the man for a moment Dean he twisted and punched him solidly in the nose. </p><p><br/>
"You fucking piece of shit. The military let a fucking virus leak globally?!" He seethed. "What's the incubation period?"</p><p><br/>
"It's airborne, most are already infected, you die you come back...a bite or scratch from the turned will speed that long though. Only way to keep the dead dead, is to damage the brain-" A bullet through the head cut the man off mid sentence.</p><p><br/>
"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! What the fuck is the matter with you? I said I wanted to talk to him!" Dean spat, getting up in Benny's face and grabbing the front of his shirt. </p><p><br/>
He pushed away Dean's hand, wiping at his sweaty brow, "Ya talked." Benny said simply, side stepping Dean to set his rifle against the upturned vehicle, climbing in through the busted back window. Dean was fuming, glaring at where the man had just disappeared. He roughly grabbed the rifle, slinging it over his shoulder as he urged Daryl up on the road with a hand on his back. They stood together on the pavement as Benny jogged back up a moment later, glaring at Dean. "I'm gonna need that back."</p><p><br/>
"I'll carry it for awhile." Dean shrugged, offering him a friendly looking smile. "You been carrying it the whole time."</p><p><br/>
"Ah, no, really?” Benny insisted, his voice turning friendly too.</p><p><br/>
"I don't mind."</p><p><br/>
"Are ya sure?"</p><p><br/>
"Yeah, I got it." Dean continued to smile, like two friends talking about the damn weather, Daryl watching them with unease. Dean's hand returned to his back, gently guiding him to walk with him as they strode along a few steps. The click of Benny's gun behind them had both men stopping in their tracks. Dean turned so his body was between Daryl and Benny as the deputy pointed his pistol at the sheriff. He walked forward, pressing the gun to Dean's chest as he ripped the rifle off his shoulder. "Benny, think about what you're doing, man."</p><p><br/>
"One." He moved the gun off of Dean's chest to press it against his forehead. "Two." A step closer now. "Three." Benny breathed, the two men glaring at the other. "That's how many time's I've saved your life." He was breathing heavily, sweat making his shaggy bangs stick to his face, his eyes were bloodshot too, now that Daryl had a good look at the man, he didn't look good. "Go on, walk out where I can see you." He ordered, nodding for the two of them to turn around. "Move." He growled when Dean merely frowned at him as his hand went to Daryl's hip to lightly urge him to do as they were told. </p><p><br/>
"He's sick." Daryl muttered quietly between the two of them after a few silent minutes. "Guys sweating buckets and his eyes're bloodshot."</p><p><br/>
"Yeah." Dean sighed, "He was bit. I saw it back at the car wash, one of those walker things got a bite to his ankle...I don't think he knows I saw-"</p><p><br/>
"Fucking heavy." Benny's voice cut in, the man firing off the rifle across the field, wasting the bullets. Dean had protectively taken a step in front of Daryl as soon as Benny as started shooting, the gesture not lost on the hunter. Benny threw the rifle at his feet as he then pulled out his pistol, aiming it at Dean again. "Move." He ordered, his voice one of urgency, "Move." Dean pressed his hand against Daryl's lower back, still using his body to shield him from the deputy. </p><p><br/>
"Fuck this." Dean muttered after only a few steps. "I'm going to confront him."</p><p><br/>
"You sure that's a good idea?" He questioned, he had no idea how level headed Benny was on the best of days, and clearly the guy was having a bad fucking day. </p><p><br/>
"If we don't make it to that bus stop, we're dead anyway."</p><p><br/>
"You really think they're still getting people outta here? That guy said this shit is global. Ain't no place left."</p><p> <br/>
"We're not giving up. There'll be water and supplies there, maybe a vehicle and gas. Stuff to help us out." He stated, halting to turn and face the other man. "Benny-"</p><p><br/>
"Back off." Benny spat, gun aimed. </p><p><br/>
"I just wanna talk to you." Dean placated, his hands up in a show of good faith.</p><p><br/>
"Dean." Daryl half begged, half warned, this was a stupid idea. Benny wasn't in his right mind.</p><p><br/>
"I will fucking shoot you where you stand." The blond warned as Dean inched carefully closer. Daryl's fingers itched to reach for his own gun, but he didn't dare, not wanting to do anything that could get Dean shot. </p><p><br/>
"I just wanna talk, man." Dean said again, his voice calm, like he was trying to soothe a scared animal.</p><p><br/>
"You'd better listen to me." Benny warned.</p><p><br/>
"Come on, man, just put the gun down. This isn't you, Benny. Put the gun down."</p><p> <br/>
"Final warning, Chief."</p><p><br/>
"Put it down." Dean pleaded softly, now only a foot in front of the man. "Please? Just put it down. I just wanna talk. You and me. Man to man." Benny blew out a breath, finally lowering the gun to his side. Dean nodded with an audible sigh, "Okay, here's the deal." He socked Benny in the jaw, dropping him flat as he knelt over the man, ripping Benny's pistol from him and aiming it back at him. Benny lay on his back atop the pavement, his breathing ragged as he stared up at the sky. Dean stood after a moment, his breathing a little strained from the situation. He met Daryl's eye as Benny started talking from where he still lay.</p><p><br/>
"Hey. Remember that monster catfish I caught last summer? What he weigh you reckon?"</p><p><br/>
"Thirty five...forty pounds." Dean replied looking back at his friend. </p><p><br/>
"Shit. Was a big son of a bitch." He breathed, hauling himself to a seated position as he wiped at his bloody nose with the back of his wrist. "I'm not right am I?" He asked feebly, Dean shaking his head in sympathy. Benny sucked back a breath, looking around before he met Dean's gaze again. "Can I walk with you guys, just...a little while longer...please?" He pleaded, voice breaking. Dean nodded, offering him a hand up and pulling him into a hug, the two clapping the other on the back. </p><p><br/>
Nightfall had them racing through the fields, the tall grass offering cover and protection from the mass of military posted on the interstate towards Atlanta. The highway was completely blocked, vehicles and men stationed for a good hundred yards. There were lights and a tank, road blocks facing north and south. No way were they sneaking by undetected. </p><p><br/>
"If you go that way," Benny instructed, pointing slightly east, "You can make it to the other highway and keep going to Greenfield's. Barely a mile left."</p><p><br/>
"They'll see us." Dean said.</p><p><br/>
"Nah, they'll be focusing on me." Dean whipped his head around to stare at the man. "Deputy does what the sheriff tells him right? You're the sheriff." Dean just stared, sorrow in his eyes as he took in what Benny was offering. "Come on, Chief, I'm done. I'm gonna die here no matter what....So let it mean something. Let it mean that you two made it, give me that." </p><p><br/>
Dean slowly nodded, looking like the very motion was causing him pain. He removed the pistol he'd taken from Benny, handing it back to him as a look of understanding passed between the two men. "Boo fucking ya, brother." Benny smiled, earning a soft huff of amusement from Dean before he was up and running towards the road, shouting at the men to gain their attention. </p><p><br/>
"We gotta move." Dean instructed, nodding over his shoulder to where Benny had told them to head. He ushered Daryl along first, right behind him as they kept low. They raced through the tall grass, military men shouting warnings back at Benny from the highway. Gunfire erupted once their feet hit pavement on the other side. Daryl felt Dean jump slightly beside him, but they pressed on, keeping a steady jog towards their destination. </p><p><br/>
Greenfield's truck stop was a midway point between Senoia and Atlanta about twenty or so miles each way. The mini mart housed a gas station, truck stop, and restaurant. The lights were all still on and a recorded advertisement was playing softly through the loud speakers as they made it onto the lot. They stopped between the building and the gas pumps, both scanning the area with sharp eyes.</p><p><br/>
"It was grand central last night." Dean uttered as the took shared an uneasy look. Dean glanced back out towards the truck stop, the gears turning in the man's head. "Wait here."</p><p><br/>
"Yer not going in there alone." He argued. </p><p><br/>
"I'll be right back, just-just wait here a minute, okay?"</p><p><br/>
Daryl frowned, but somehow he knew Dean was just as stubborn as he was. "Five minutes, Winchester. Then I'm coming in after you." Dean gave him a crooked smile, nodding before he sprinted off towards the front doors.</p><p>Daryl watched him go before he took in the full surroundings outside. There were four sets of pumps behind him, and other four to his right to total sixteen. He could see trucks lined up along the wall the went around the corner. Rounding it carefully, he saw that the trucks were all the same, with large wooden frames built onto the back for transporting livestock.</p><p>He could smell something in the air too, something vaguely familiar but in a very unpleasant way. Slowly and silently he inched closer, the glints of light coming from his feet catching his eye. Hundreds of bullet casings lay scattered across the asphalt, each reflecting the light from the pumps as they lay there tauntingly back at him.</p><p>He heard Dean calling his name as he peered into the back of one of the trucks, the sight pulling the breath from his lungs. </p><p><br/>
"Daryl?" Dean's panicked voice called out, his hurried footsteps echoing as Dean ran towards him.</p><p>"Daryl, you okay?" Dean questioned full of worry, his eyes wearing nothing but concern as he gripped Daryl's arms and stepped into his line of sight.</p><p>"Daryl?" He asked again, his hands moving to the sides of Daryl's neck now, forcing blue to took meet green. Horror must of been written on Daryl's face because Dean kept one hand on his neck as he turned to look. </p><p><br/>
The back of the truck was piled with charred bodies. Medical wrist bands visible on a few of the blackened arms. Dean pulled him into a hug then, one hand cradling the back of his head as Daryl clung to the other man, grabbing hand fulls of Dean's jacket. "Hey, hey, it's okay." Dean soothed. "It's okay, it's okay." He repeated over and over. </p><p> </p><p>"They exterminated everyone...not just the sick." Daryl muttered, the two of them having gone inside the restaurant. He was currently seated at one of the booths, Dean anxiously pacing back and forth in front of the table. </p><p><br/>
"There's gotta be somewhere." Dean was mumbling to himself.</p><p><br/>
"Dean, there ain't anywhere to go."</p><p><br/>
"No, no, there's gotta be. Something, somewhere, they've got to have quarantined an area."</p><p><br/>
"They're bombing the cities, Dean."</p><p><br/>
"They have to have somewhere-"</p><p><br/>
"Dean!" Daryl shouted, angry and scared, frowning at the man before he had to look away. "Stop pretending it's all fucking gonna be okay."</p><p><br/>
Dean stopped in his pacing to take the seat across from him, resting his elbows on the table. "You wanna give up?" He asked softly, "You want to sit here and die, just tell me...and I will sit here and die with you." </p><p><br/>
Daryl looked up then, tears in his eyes as he met Dean's, the man looking at him with determination. He didn't know what to say to that. To that...declaration. That Dean would sit there and die with him, if that's what he wanted. Choking out a breath, he tentatively reached out a hand, brushing his fingers against Dean's. Dean made the rest of the move, grabbing Daryl's hand with his and rubbing his thumb over the other's knuckles. When he met Dean's gaze again, he saw something else in them. </p><p><br/>
Something-</p><p>Both men leaned forward as Dean reached a hand for Daryl's hair, pulling him in to seal their lips together in a kiss that was all passion. Dean's touch grounded him, their other hands still clasped on the table as they bumped noses and kissed again hotly a couple more times before resting their foreheads together. Pulling away slightly, Dean's hand moved to cradle the side of his head, his thumb brushing away the wetness on Daryl's cheek. He pressed a kiss to his forehead then, still stroking Daryl's cheek and knuckles with his thumbs. </p><p><br/>
"You're gonna go get that truck." Daryl whispered, his voice thick. "And we're gonna keep goin'." </p><p><br/>
Dean's eyes searched his for a long moment, the hand on his face gently tugging him forward again for another kiss. "Wait here." Daryl nodded, stealing another kiss before Dean was off on his task. Daryl sat there a moment, licking his lips as the feeling of Dean's lingered. He couldn't help the smile that broke out then, a warmth flowing down his spine as he felt the phantom of Dean's fingers in his hair. </p><p><br/>
Heading around the counter by the kitchens, he grabbed himself a bottle of water as he waited. Twisting off the cap he leaned back against the counter to slowly down the contents, quenching his thirst he hadn't realized he'd had. He was on his second bottle when the power went out. Ducking down into a quick crouch, Daryl peered around the counter to see a figure walk by outside, silhouetted by the yard lights out front. Removing the buck knife from his belt, he slowly inched his way down the isle of the kitchen until he came to the corner leading father back. A quick look over his shoulder showed two men entering the restaurant from the far end.</p><p> <br/>
Sprinting as much he could in is crouched state, Daryl raced to the back of the kitchens, mindful not to barrel into anything and draw attention to himself. Booking it for the far hallway, he froze as he saw a shadow on the wall approaching, back pedaling to the start of the hall had him spot the two men drawing nearer. Panic started to claw up him as he searched around for somewhere to hide. Spotting the the plastic sheeting leading into a walk-in cooler he quickly ducked in before he could double guess himself. </p><p><br/>
He should of double guessed himself. </p><p><br/>
Bodies were strung up and piled in the small space. Various states of hacked corpses and entrails slicked the floor as Daryl bit his lip to keep quiet. He crouched low by the entry, peering out between the rubbery plastic to keep an eye on the other men in the building. He heard gruff voices heading his way and the fear of being found had him backing deeper into the room. He grimaced as he brushed against one of the bodies, blood sweeping across his side as he moved to lay on the floor. To prevent the risk of being seen he held his breath as he pulled one of the corpses up to hide him better, the rubber curtain slapping together as one of the men poked their head in. Daryl watched from his hiding spot as the burly man looked around for what felt like an eternity. He grunted to himself before finally leaving, his heavy footfalls echoing down the hall. Daryl blew out the breath he'd been holding, shoving the body off of him so he could crawl out and carefully sprint down the hall towards where Dean would be.</p><p><br/>
He collided into something solid as he rounded the third corner, shoulders knocking together before he was being pulled into a small office, trying to fight off the hands pulling him. "Ouch, Daryl, it's me." Dean hissed in a low voice, grabbing both is elbows then."Is that blood? Are you okay? What happened?" Dean asked frantically, his hands already roaming over Daryl's body to assess any damage. Dean didn't know any boundaries when it came to touching Daryl, and it seemed further proven right then, he grabbed Dean's hands as they fell to his waist. The man having been about to lift his shirt. </p><p><br/>
"Ain't mine."</p><p> <br/>
"Someone attack you?" Dean frowned.</p><p><br/>
"No. There's other people here though, don't know if they saw me. They had bodies strung up in the cooler, hacked up and piled in."</p><p><br/>
"Jesus Christ." </p><p><br/>
"You get the truck?"</p><p><br/>
"No, I was shoving water and things into a backpack when I heard groaning from in the store. The clerks...they were those walking corpses. Tried to attack me but I put them down. Then came back to find you but you were gone." Dean rambled off, sounding the most uneasy Daryl had heard the man speak since he'd met him. "You sure you're okay?" He asked, his hands moving up to cup either side of his face, thumbs gently stroking over cheekbones.</p><p><br/>
"Yeah." Daryl breathed, his hands moving to Dean's waist as they pulled each other in for a soft kiss. It lingered as both were loath to pull away. "Let's get the hell outta here." </p><p><br/>
Dean lead the way back towards the trucking bay, both men staying low against the wall as they sprinted through the halls. There was more then one threat out there now. Busting through the doors to the bay, they both raced over to the semi parked over the oil change alley. Daryl reached the door first, unlatching the handle and yanking it open. He and Dean both uttering a startled shout as a body fell heavily to the ground. </p><p><br/>
"Fuck." Daryl cursed, being more cautious as he poked his head it. "It's clear." He said back to Dean, climbing in over the drivers seat and double checking the bunk in the back as he sat shotgun, Dean climbing in right behind him and handing him the newly stocked backpack. Dean dug through his pockets, pulling out three different key rings as he started trying to get the truck to start. Daryl had his pistol in his hand, both their breaths a little uneven as they struggled to get going. </p><p><br/>
Daryl's eye caught sight of the truck. The red half ton from town. The box was now piled full with fresh bodies, limbs hanging over the edge of the box, blood seeping through the bed. "Dean." He breathed. "How's it going over there?"</p><p><br/>
"Getting there." Dean panted back, cursing as he threw a set of keys over his shoulder to try the next one. That one proved useless too, following the same path as the first, Dean tried the third, both keys on that ring not working either. "Sonovabitch." He hissed, keys in hand as he pressed them to his forehead and rested his arm against the door. </p><p><br/>
"They gotta be in here some wher-"</p><p><br/>
"-fucking kidding me." They both cut off the other, Dean holding up a finger. "Wait here." He said, already sliding out of the truck.</p><p><br/>
"What, Dean-what are ya doin'?" Daryl tried to whisper shout after the man. Dean jumped down to the body that had fallen out of the truck, searching the front of the man's pockets as the light flicked on in the waiting room behind the large window, illuminating a man with a rifle. "Dean!" </p><p><br/>
Dean ripped the keys off the man's belt as the man from within smashed the glass with the butt of his gun. Dean spun and stepped back over to the truck, Daryl grabbing his hand to help pull him up when Dean was ripped from his grasp. He fell flat to his back, hitting the concrete with a heavy smack before he was yanked under the truck. "Dean!" He shouted after him, making to get out and go after him but the man who'd smashed the window was now aiming that rifle at him. Daryl reached out and heaved the door shut as bullets collided with the other side. He hastily clamored into the back buck, pistol at the ready as the drivers door opened a second later. Some grizzly looking guy climbed in, his gaze turning to find Daryl in the back. He hesitated only a second before he blew the man's brains out, blood painting the window as the body fell back out to the floor.</p><p> <br/>
"Daryl?!" Dean's called up to him, his head reappearing a minute later. "You okay?"</p><p><br/>
"Yeah." He nodded. "You?"</p><p><br/>
"Fine." Dean nodded back, his neck was splattered with blood and his lip was split but otherwise he appeared fine. "Let's get the fuck outta here." He climbed the rest of the way in, slamming the door  behind him and firing up the engine with the keys from the dead man. "Hold on." He warned, revving up the engine and powering them through the bay door, demolishing it as they drove off the lot. </p><p><br/>
Once back on the highway Dean grabbed a metal two way radio from off his belt, slapping it down on the dash and turning up the volume. A voice on the other end was counting down, currently at thirty four. He looked up to briefly meet Dean's eye.</p><p><br/>
"What happens when it gets to zero?" He asked.</p><p><br/>
"It's nearly midnight." Dean spoke, meeting his eye again.</p><p> <br/>
With the semi barreling down the 35, away from both Atlanta and Senoia Daryl's hand sought out Dean's. They didn't know where the hell they were headed, or what their chances were at surviving, but they were in this mess together and they were gonna fucking make it or die trying. As the voice on the radio continued it's countdown Dean gave his hand a little squeeze. </p><p><br/>
<em>"T minus ten seconds. Trigger engaged."</em>
</p><p><br/>
"I'm glad you're here with me." </p><p><br/>
"No offence, but this is a shitty place to be." Daryl quipped, smiling despite himself. Dean actually laughed then, a full bodied laugh with bright eyes as he turned his face to Daryl. </p><p><br/>
"You're worth it." He uttered with a grin.</p><p><br/>
<em>"Three, two, one..."</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More chapters to come. </p><p>Thoughts or requests are more then welcome!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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